The Alchemist's Daughter
by Tanya Lilac
Summary: I was the alchemist’s daughter," she whispered. "I was supposed to be like him, everyone thought. But then I was... talentless in their eyes." It seemed as if she was crumbling to ash in his hands. Royai. Spoilers, post chapter 58.
1. Kindling

Well, this is my second attempt at a Royai, and another attempt to capture tension in words. I hope to have it finished soon... but I'm not too sure. I don't think this'll be too long – right now, I plan to end it in three parts. Concrit, questions and suggestions are always welcome.

**The Alchemist's Daughter**

_Kindling_

By Tanya Lilac

Riza knew exactly what this entailed. So did he. They were very clinical about it. Jackets were removed, folded neatly, and slung over the back of a chair. She sat on the bed, and undid the buttons of her blouse with her back to him, but it was not from shyness or an attempt to be coy. But, as the shirt slid over her soft shoulders, and down the gentle curve of her back, Roy's breath caught, and he was unable to take his eyes away.

She turned her head slightly, and he blushed at being caught out, and turned away to let her settle. He only turned back when he heard the rustle of the bed sheets stop. She was lying on the bed, her back bared to him. She crossed her arms and rested her head upon them, and stared at him with those piercing, honey –hued eyes of hers. They were such a soothing colour, but the intensity of her gaze spoke volumes.

"So," she said softly, her eyes sliding shut. "Now, you know."

After the funeral, Riza asked Roy to stay with her once again, in his old rooms (for one last time, her eyes said). It would be more convenient for the both of them and it would be easier to cross reference his notes, since all the related books would still be in the study. Her eyes, then, had been steady – as they had been throughout the service. Perhaps she had cried all she would. It seemed like something she would do. He had accepted the offer without inflection in his voice; this was not the time for...

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Roy remembered where he was. Clearing his throat, he sat at Riza's desk and switched on her desk lamp to better study the array on her back. Without thinking, he reached for the book he had brought in with him and opened it to the first page, briskly sketching the main outlines of the tattoo. However, when he looked closer at her back, he realised it went far beyond an array. He sighed.

At this, Riza's eyes snapped open.

"Is something wrong?"

Roy smiled at her. "No, I just realised how much... how much this must have hurt for you."

She sighed and turned onto her side. Roy picked up his book and pen, and sat on the floor, leaning against the bed as he began to copy out the notes.

"I can't remember how old I was," she said suddenly. "I think... I think I was eleven or twelve."

For some inexplicable reason, the sound of her voice, and being close enough to her, to smell her skin, made his breath quicken. She shivered, feeling his eyes upon her, and he watched with fascination as her skin turned to gooseflesh. He had tried to be detached. But he couldn't deny the facts – she was a strong and beautiful woman, but she was also his teacher's daughter. She was entrusting her back to him... and to abuse that trust, to exploit her in yet another manner... would be despicable.

"It took... hours," her voice had taken on a dreamy tone. "But it felt like forever. He did it himself, and he kept talking the entire time to distract me."

Roy tried to imagine the scene in his head, and smiled. "What did you talk about?"

"Everything... and nothing," she said. "We talked about my duty – I knew what this meant, of course, but he felt he had to tell me. And I understood. We talked about... my mother. I think I cried, when he was doing the salamander. So, he started talking about her. It's something he never does, but I'm not sure why." He heard the catch in her voice as she corrected herself. "Something he never _did_."

"Did you talk about me?" Roy teased, trying to draw her away.

"Yes."

He heard the smile in her voice.

"You were a part of the 'nothing' side of our conversation," she replied. "What did we say? He really did think you were the best student he had ever had... although, he remained quite shocked and _very_ amused about your reaction at that dinner where –"

"Don't continue that story, please." Roy groaned, his pen stilling for a moment.

"I think it's a good memory. It could be something to hold against you in the future," she said.

"Blackmailing me already? I already owe you for this! I forgot how spiteful you could be."

"Blackmail?" Riza's voice had changed subtly, and Roy tensed. "I don't think I could ever go through with it. I'd always... I would like to think that I would support you, and be on your side, Mustang-san."

The sound of his name, from her lips, sent an electric jolt through his body. It was unexpected, but not too unpleasant.

He cleared his throat again. "Would you like a book?"

"What do you have? And please, no alchemic texts."

"I actually have a novel with me ... it's this story about an alchemist who tries to create a perfect being, another life, out of the bodies of the dead... but I think it ends up destroying his entire world... I bought it last week, but haven't had the time... to read anything but the back cover."

Riza smiled. Carrying conversations with her father's pupil, while he had been reading an interesting article or journal or book had always been difficult, because his attention was solely focussed on the text. It didn't seem like he had gotten any better at multi tasking.

"It sounds interesting," she said quietly. "May I take a look?"

He stopped writing and reached for his jacket, pulling the novel out of the pocket. As he handed it to her, she asked, "Do you mind if I read aloud, or would you rather read it yourself?"

The pen continued once more in its dance. "No," its owner said. "I wouldn't mind that at all."

That evening, Roy confessed to being nowhere near finished, as he stretched and ran his fingers through his hair.

"They're very detailed... and it may take me a bit longer than I had originally thought."

Dinner – a warm salad served with steak – had been served, and cleared away long ago, and it sounded like everyone else in the household was now asleep. Rubbing his tired eyes, Roy glanced over at the clock. It was just past midnight.

Riza had stopped reading for a while and was now watching him as he packed up his notes. Roy paused and gazed back at her. "The notes?" She nodded, and he smirked. "When I finish, I'll burn them for you."

He switched off the lamp and picked up his notes. Riza gathered the sheets around her and sat up with a small smile. "You're not seriously going to take them with you and keep reading all night, are you? You never change, you're such a workaholic." She sighed. "Sleep. If you're too tired tomorrow, you'll make mistakes. You'll have all the time you need to study your notes afterwards." She held out her hand, and Roy reluctantly gave her the book. She slipped it under her pillow, and he sighed.

"Goodnight, Mustang-san," she said quietly.

He pushed his hands into his pockets, trying to ignore the tingle running down his spine, and headed for the door. "Goodnight, Hawkeye-san."

They continued to follow this routine for the next week. The maids gossiped about what their mistress and the handsome alchemist were doing in her room all day, and why she always had that 'just dressed' look when they brought in their meals. Roy flirted with them incessantly when they came in to close the curtains and light the brazier at dusk, in a very successful attempt to distract them from Riza's hasty dressing. They could assume what they liked, but Riza had deeply ingrained habits that ensured that she always kept the tattoo covered, even from the household staff.

Late one evening at the end of the week, Roy was making the finishing touches on his notes and cross checking. His warm, dry hand brushed against the soft skin of her back and she flinched involuntarily.

"Sorry," they said simultaneously, very hastily.

He couldn't see her face – she was lying stomach down again, and he was sitting behind her on the bed – but he was sure that she was smiling.

"Are you almost done yet?" She asked, her voice trembling. Was she laughing?

Roy nodded and shut his book. "All done. I'll be borrowing the study for a little while."

"Or," Riza replied, picking up a night dress and moving behind a screen to change into it, "You could ask me."

Roy made to leave, but Riza stopped him once again. "Wait for me," she said, coming out from behind the screen. The satin garment didn't cover her back completely, nor did it hide the shapeliness of her legs and the slight curves of her slender body. Roy found his throat dry for the second time and inwardly cursed. What was he, just a fumbling, blushing seventeen year old again?

She picked up her robe and slipped into it to cover her back, but left it untied.

"Okay, let's go."

Roy gave her a confused look. "Where?"

She smiled and snatched the book from him, and threw it onto her bed. "No more studying tonight." Stop trying to study me, her eyes seemed to say. Stop trying to figure me out. You know _me_ already. She daringly grabbed his hand and pulled him out of her room, their feet making no noise upon the plush rugs. They slipped silently down the stairs, past the grandfather clock that ticked incessantly, past the formal dining room and the study door, into the kitchen.

Letting go of his hand, Riza turned on the lights and Roy blinked at the sudden brightness. "I've been craving this all week, but I decided to wait until you had finished your notes first," she explained. Opening the freezer, she rummaged around before finding her prize.

"Cheesecake?" Roy said in disbelief. "You dragged me out here for cheesecake?"

"Not just _any _cheesecake. It's cheesecake from –"

"The bakery in the third district. The Florentine, right?"

Riza nodded and pulled the cake out of the box and placed it on a dish. Opening a drawer, she pulled out a knife and two spoons and ran hot water over the blade. She cut two generous slices and placed them on plates before sliding one across the counter to Roy, before sitting on the bench top to enjoy dessert.

"Really takes you back, doesn't it?" She said quietly.

Roy smirked. "I can't remember the last time I had this. I must have been... what? Seventeen? I remember your father used to be really strict on curfews. One night, I came down for a glass of water, but I found you in here, cheesecake in hand, and you offered me some – the cook could never figure out why it never seemed to last... but I think your father knew."

"Nothing ever escapes the eyes of the hawk."

He looked over at her, alarmed by the tone of her voice. She had left the cake untouched and was looking down at the ground. He could see the tears that threatened to spill over as her voice shook with the effort of holding in so many other words. Words better left unsaid.

"I was the alchemist's daughter," she whispered. "I was... the _alchemist_'s daughter. I was supposed to be like him, everyone thought. But then I was... talentless in their eyes. All of his colleagues... just looked down on me from then on, because I was just another weak girl, growing up without a mother. I know ... I know the principle of equivalent exchange." She took a breath. "I carry the secrets I can't use."

She closed her eyes slowly, and the tears ran down her cheeks. "When I heard you were coming to visit, I bought this, because we haven't had it in years. But then... he's not here anymore." She brushed the tears away with shaking hands and Roy quickly closed the space between them and captured her hands.

"Riza..." he began, and heard the catch of her breath.

The last time he had called her that... it had been in fear, anger and panic. She'd been unable to do anything to help him.

Without thinking, she leaned forward and kissed him, gently pulling him closer to her with her hands. He let go of them tentatively and she slid them up his arms and laced them around his neck as he deepened the kiss. She smiled and wrapped her legs around his waist, growling softly as she felt him try to pull away.

"No, Riza," he said softly as he succeeded. "It can't be like this. Not now."

She pushed herself off the bench, her feet landing lightly on the cold marble. "When else, then?" She breathed huskily, her hands returning to their previous ministrations. They moved to the buttons on his shirt and he stilled her hands again, this time more firmly.

"Please," he said softly. He had been craving _this_ all week, but it would not end like this. He could see the pain in her eyes, and had already decided that she was far too ... precious for this, especially in her current state. "Please, stop."

The hands upon his shirt clenched into fists and he gently folded his arms around her as she began to cry, deep, heart wrenching sobs into his chest. He knew these tears were not for him.


	2. Spark

**I'd like to apologise – as a result of unforeseen internet problems... this second chapter is a little bit late, I think. Comments, concrit and questions are always welcome. **

**The Alchemist's Daughter**

_Spark_

By Tanya Lilac

Roy paced impatiently outside the apartment complex, wondering if there was any other way out. There was no denying that he owed her, but to repay her like _this_...

He clenched his fists and sighed softly into the summer night. How many years had it been, since he had seen her back? That array that had granted him his State Alchemist accreditation and yet, barely a month ago, had taken the lives of so many, and pushed them to the brink of complete and utter insanity. She seemed so close to breaking, once again – would this shatter her?

Frustrated at the thought, he shut his eyes and took a deep breath to try and calm down. It wouldn't help anyone if he was distracted. He tried to focus his mind, but all he could see was the haunted look in her eyes. Would he see them again tonight? Would he be able to fix them?

He knew the answer anyway – once lost, innocence was gone forever.

With a final sigh, he walked up the three flights of stairs and swiftly made his way to room thirty six. He knocked sharply on the door and after a few minutes (and evidently it was the longest few minutes of his life), Riza opened the door. Her hair was damp.

"Mustang-san? You're early," she smiled warmly, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Come inside."

For some reason, it was then that it finally hit him. He needed to believe in her strength. He would not – _could_ not doubt her own resolution, and her judgement. To do so... would be the greatest insult.

She lived by herself, in a one bedroom apartment. A bay window looked out onto the fourth district in central, and in the distance, he could see the military headquarters. He turned away from the window and placed the box he'd brought upon the kitchen bench.

She sat down. "What did you bring?"

"Supplies," he replied grimly. He unpacked the box and Riza sighed. He gave her a strange look. "I'll ask you again," he said quietly. "Are you _sure_ you don't want to go to the hospital? Even a second degree burn needs a lot of treatment –"

"And is suspicious, especially for a cadet who has just come back from war, with the Flame Alchemist, 'Hero of Ishval'," Riza countered. "I don't want anyone to see this... even a part of it's –"

"Dangerous," Roy finished. They'd been having this debate for the past five weeks, ever since she had asked him, the both of them covered in the blood and dust of Ishval.

"Well, I will have to bandage it for you, then." He smirked. "You can't reach all the way around there, or even cook without moving your shoulders, can you?"

Riza arched an eyebrow at him. "You're useless. All you ever think about is getting into more and more trouble. Won't your girlfriend notice that your clothes smell like another woman?"

He scoffed. "The 'Hero of Ishval' is currently single, believe it or not."

She caught the bitter inflection in his voice and looked away.

"Besides," he added, "I'm going to be the one who will be doing the harming – I may as well help... I'm a fantastic cook, you know. Speaking of which, have you had dinner?"

"_Yes_, Roy," Riza said in long suffering tones. He stopped unpacking and looked at her. She hadn't called him by his first name in years. He stared, and she raised her eyes to meet his, feeling his gaze on her. Eyes that had once held vibrant light and warmth were now dim, shadowed by pain, regret and loss. She tried to smile at him, but found that tears welled suddenly in her eyes. Blinking, she turned away and left him standing in the kitchen to sit down on the bed.

She slid her shirt up over her head and folded it in half before slinging it across the foot of her bed, all the while listening to the sound of running water from the kitchen. Their routine from long ago had not been forgotten. Everything was carried out with an unhurried, methodical precision, everything perfectly timed. Her undergarments followed and she lay down on the bed, hugging a pillow tightly to her chest. Roy, with a quiet sigh and sad look in his eye, approached with his well prepared supplies and put them down on the ground.

Drawing a small case out of his pocket, he procured a small white tablet.

"What's that?" Riza asked cautiously.

"Painkillers," he replied, holding out a glass of water with his other hand. "_Strong_ ones."

"How long will it take?" He knew she wasn't talking about the medicine.

"... Seconds," he said, his voice taut. His hands were steady. She could trust him. "But afterwards... the pain will last. Two months, maybe. You won't be able to work for the next six weeks, depending on how far the damage goes. You'll have blisters and –"

"I know." She said solemnly. "It will be worth it." She sat up to drink the tablet before lying down once more, overtaken by a chilling apprehension.

Clearly agitated, Roy unbuttoned his shirt some more and ran his hand several times through his hair before pulling on a familiar pair of white gloves he kept in his jacket pocket. She knew this so well. He knew her back like she knew the back of his hand.

He sat down beside her like he had once done, and reached out to gently trace his fingers over the array on her back. She flinched, but remained silent. It was amazing how much he owed to her, because of this.

"You're too tense." he said softly. She smiled at the feel of him so close to her, his breaths fanning across her shoulders to brush her ear lightly. "I knew I should have gotten you drunk."

He put his hand on her shoulder and she sat up, still holding the pillow. "I trust you," she murmured.

Upon hearing those words, he pulled her close and kissed her, watching as her eyes slid shut and the tension melted out of her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he tried hard to ignore the delicate scent of her soap. Soon, it would be replaced with the now-familiar smell of burned flesh.

Steeling himself, he envisaged the array on her back, they had so carefully studied years ago. It was designed such that, with something missing, the rest of the array would not make sense... at least, in theory. He would only need to destroy part of the array.

Roy tried not to hesitate as he remembered, with a sudden vividness, their time together, poring over books in the study and his meticulous notes. She had even managed to learn the code in which his notes were encrypted. They had both been breathlessly excited the moment the flames had sprung forth with a click of his fingers – and had consumed his notebook, reducing it entirely to ash in a matter of seconds. He could even remember the joke she'd made about making paperwork 'disappear'.

He broke away quickly before he was overwhelmed; barely managing to whisper hoarsely in her ear, "Remember to breathe."

There was no time for her to react. In the clear reflection of her window, Roy watched as, with a snap of his left hand, the skin on her left shoulder blade turned bright red and was marred in an instant by his flames. Her left arm dropped reflexively to the bed to ease the pain and she clung painfully to him with her right, but not a sound passed through her lips.

After finally being able to bandage the wound well past midnight, Riza managed to fall into a fitful doze, with the aid of another tablet, and she finally found restful sleep near dawn. Roy tipped out the large bowl of water and tried to ignore its reddish hue. He stared at the tired face that looked back at him in the mirror and pressed his forehead against the cool glass, his breaths streaking across his reflection.

He was a State Alchemist – the dogs of the military. He wasn't allowed to use his gift to heal people – it was for harming them. It was the only way he could protect others. With a sigh, he looked down at his blood-tinged hands, which up until now, had been steady. Feeling nothing but a deeply familiar guilt, he turned on the tap and began to scrub them vigorously.

When he had first objected, part of it had been from selfishness. He couldn't bear to hurt her, was what he had said. He couldn't bear having to deal with something he had done to her. It could not be simpler.

The water, meanwhile, had become hot. With a sharp gasp, he dropped the bar of soap and wrenched his hands out of the sink. They were pink and raw. Sighing, he turned the cold water on and splashed his face. None of this would wash away the pain that she had suffered – for both her father... and for the sake of the people they had both naively wanted to protect – at his hands.

Leaving the bathroom, he stopped and stared. The sun just reached above the rooftops of the buildings in the district, its golden light casting a similar stain upon the whitewashed walls in her apartment. Riza's skin seemed to glow, and was not the wan, sickly colour she had been a few hours ago. Her hair, still short, gleamed like gossamer strands of glass. He saw, as she turned to face him in her sleep, that the faint hint of colour had blossomed back into her cheeks, and she wasn't showing any signs of shock or fever. Roy sighed with relief.

Without another moment of hesitation, he slipped out of her apartment with her spare keys jangling in his pocket.

------------------------------

Riza woke groggily to the smell of coffee. Upon opening her eyes, she saw a blurry figure that looked like Roy in the kitchen, warming up something in the oven as he waited patiently for the coffee to finish steeping. She tried to focus her eyes on what was inside the open grocery bags on the bench, but they refused to cooperate. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth, and she was parched. As if he sensed she was awake, Roy came over to help her.

"Morning..." He smirked. "Or perhaps I should say, 'good afternoon'." He helped her to sit, watching carefully as she cringed when her back moved. He handed her a glass of water and she glared at him reproachfully as she drank. "What was I supposed to do? It was either, take the pain killers and pass out for eight hours, or keep waking up every five minutes, swearing. Besides, I think you look cute when you sleep –"

He jumped off the bed as Riza tipped what was left in the glass onto his lap. She stopped and stared at his ironed shirt for a moment, before gingerly stretching out her left arm, wincing at the twinge in her shoulder. She ignored Roy, who was muttering things under his breath as he strode over to the sofa to pick up a change of clothes. Despite his ironed shirt, he didn't look like he had slept at all. Lifting her left arm slightly, she inched her way across the bed and traced her feet across the wooden floorboards. They were clean.

She glanced at the clock – it was just past two in the afternoon. Running her fingers through her hair, she tried to remember some of what had happened last night. Roy had tried to ease the pain as much as he could, while doing his best to distract her. She'd been in no condition to carry on a conversation, so he had been forced to do all of the talking. When her skin had cooled enough for him to apply a bandage safely, it was well past midnight. Over and over, the fabric had rolled over her chest, shoulder and back. His hands, so steady, had never faltered. When he was finally done, he had helped her put on a shirt that had buttoned up at the front and gave her another tablet to dull her senses.

He had picked up the novel she had left on her bedside table, opened it to the marked page, and began to read, his voice pulling her into dreams. She remembered sleeping lightly at first, waking every time Roy stopped reading. After some time, he reached out to her with a hand that trembled, and she took it in her own, caressing his skin. She had wondered if it would last until daybreak.

She needn't have worried. At the first sign of dawn – a pale sky that announced the sun – she had smiled sleepily at the Flame Alchemist. He had looked at her, puzzled, and her smile grew. With a soft, relieved sigh, she felt a little guilty about her selfishness, but all thoughts soon fled from her mind as Roy's hand free itself from hers. His fingertips traced the back of her hand for a few moments before running up her arm, shoulder and nape of her neck to rest, for a second, upon the curve of her cheek. He stroked her flaxen locks away from her eyes and smiled back. There was no need to hide.

Reassured, she let her eyes drift shut as she fell into a deep slumber, the pain on her back just a mere ache.

That had been around eight hours ago, if her guess was correct. Why hadn't he slept? Roy came out of the bathroom, and had changed out of the pants he had been wearing. Riza cleared her throat several times before trying to talk.

"Why are you still awake?" Her voice sounded far too loud and she grimaced. "And... what did you give me?"

Roy smirked and came over with a tray of hot croissants, fresh fruit, a cup of coffee and a glass of juice.

"Well, if you hadn't lied and told me that you hadn't eaten dinner, then you wouldn't be feeling like this, would you?" He set the tray down on the bedside table and reached for the coffee, but Riza beat him to it. "You can't take it on an empty stomach, because it'll make you dehydrated. So drink a lot of fluids as well. The coffee _wasn't_ for you, by the way."

He sighed and settled with taking a sip of juice.

"You haven't slept. You went home... and changed, _shaved_ and brought extra clothes. You bought foodfrom your favourite places in the third district by the looks of it, and had the time to prepare coffee properly. You mopped my floors... and scrubbed away at your hands until they were raw. I don't think you need coffee. You need to sleep."

Roy sighed and put the glass back down onto the tray. "You're far too observant for your own good, Riza." He took a bite out of a strawberry and arched an eyebrow at her strange expression.

"Roy... have you not been able to sle-" she was interrupted when he leaned over and kissed her. It was sweet, slow and soft, far from the rough desperation he had screamed to her last night. But, they both knew that he was asking for the same thing. Please, _please_... don't say anything else.

_I might break if you say more._

She broke away and sighed, finally relinquishing her hold on the coffee mug. She handed it to him, and his fingertips brushed against her hand as he claimed his prize.

"Thank you."


End file.
